'
Mrs. Weare laughed. 'The very man! When I was a little girl he used to make
all sorts of pretty things for me with his fret-saw; and when I grew old
enough, he instructed me in the balance of Power. It's possible, mamma,
that he writes leading articles. We should never hear of it.'
'My dear, anything is possible with Mr. Tymperley. And such a change, this,
after his country life. He had a beautiful little house near ours, in
Berkshire. I really can't help thinking that my husband's death caused him
to leave it. He was so attached to Mr. Charman! When my husband died, and
we left Berkshire, we altogether lost sight of him--oh, for a couple of
years. Then I met him by chance in London. Ada thinks there must have been
some sentimental trouble.'
'Dear mamma,' interposed the daughter, 'it was you, not I, who suggested
that.'
'Was it? Well, perhaps it was. One can't help seeing that he has gone
through something. Of course it may be only pity for the poor souls he
gives his life to. A wonderful man!'
When masculine voices sounded at the drawing-room door, Mrs. Loring looked
curiously for the eccentric gentleman. He entered last of all. A man of
more than middle height, but much bowed in the shoulders; thin, ungraceful,
with an irresolute step and a shy demeanour; his pale-grey eyes, very soft
in expression, looked timidly this way and that from beneath brows
nervously bent, and a self-obliterating smile wavered upon his lips.
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